The boat moves along at a steady pace, bound for Nassau in the picturesque commonwealth of the Bahamas.
John Booker Routledge, or John B. as everyone inevitably calls him, stares out the window. A gentle mist was falling, pattering off the sea. If he wasn't so exhausted from his narrow escape from the Outer Banks police and SBI, he might have actually enjoyed the sight. The ocean was John's favorite place to be. Surfing, fishing, boating with the other Pogues. The water was his life, ever since he had been a young child. Well, now that was only one part of his life he thought, as he glances down to the blonde girl leaning against him. Sarah Cameron had become the other part of his life. The other part of his soul.
She had given up everything for him. Her cushy life as a Kook, her friends at the country club, hell she had even forsaken her family to go on the run with him. He didn't know many 16-year-old girls who would willingly become a fugitive for someone she had only known, really known, for a week. But Sarah wasn't like any other girl he had ever met. And he was so grateful she was his.
John doesn't know what the next step is. He doesn't have a plan. He was, as always, flying by the seat of his pants, desperately reaching out for any lifeline he could. Now he also has Sarah to worry about. To protect and keep safe. John had grown used to looking out for himself these past nine months since his father went missing. And now his father was gone forever. And John was alone, with only his friends and Sarah to be there for him. The Pogues were now miles and miles away. He and Sarah only had each other to depend on and support. John doesn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the thought.
"Hey kids we're docking soon," the boat captain intones. "You two got anywhere to go?"
John and Sarah exchange a look. Probably not the best idea to let a strange adult know where they were heading, no matter how nice he seemed. After everything they had gone through, they only trusted each other.
"We're going to meet up with some friends at their place so we're good," John replies. Sarah nods her head in agreement to help with the lie.
"Alright well you two be safe out there. You're not on the most secure part of the island once you leave this dock."
John feels for the gold that is still in his pocket. He knows this is their only lifeline. They need it for food, clothes, and lodging for God knows how long. Even if they got jobs, they were two foreigners who would stick out like a sore thumb. They had to lay low and stay under the radar.
The boat was pulling into a designated spot near the dock. The gangplank came down, and John takes Sarah's hand and the few belongings they have left and exited onto solid ground. Time to take their next step in the search for the gold.
Sarah knows she would follow John B. anywhere. She hadn't exactly pictured it being in the Bahamas on the run, but here they were. Two teenagers left to their own devices, hiding from the authorities and chasing what her father had stolen.
The wind whips around them as they make their way into Nassau. Her hair sticks to her face, which she keeps brushing out of the way with her now chapped and dirty hands. She definitely wasn't a Kook princess anymore. Now she was borderline a Pogue, in love with their undisputed leader, running with him after he was framed for murder. Her life had changed dramatically in only a number of days, but Sarah is grateful for it. She wanted out of the bubble wrap and now she was. Now she knew the truth about who her father and brother were. Sarah never wanted to go back to her old life.
Oh, she's scared of course. The future was so unsure. They didn't have a place to live, cell phones that worked, or any way to contact their friends back home. It wasn't going to be easy. But as long as she and John were together, she knew they could get through anything.
John pulls her along at a rather quick pace. It was starting to get dark, and they needed to get situated beforehand. He was a man on a mission, determined to get them through this first horrendous day. Sarah knows he's tired. They both are. They had been running for days, almost drowned, and hadn't slept properly in 24 hours. They needed to rest.
"John B., where are we going?
He glances back at her.
"We need to find somewhere to stay. And talking to the locals is the best way to do that."
She smiles at him. He is so smart, so resourceful, and much more knowledgeable of the real world than she has ever been. His life had never been easy, but it left him with the skills for them to survive this ordeal.
Up ahead they spot a crab shack. John marches up to the window and immediately begins talking to the man behind the counter. Asking about local rentals, he gets directions to a landlord of some small bungalows near the shoreline. Sarah smiles at the thought. A little place for just the two of them. They would be near the water, his favorite place. They would live off the land, working hard to have as good a life as possible under the circumstances.
John grabs her hand again, heading off in the direction of the landlord.
Upon arrival, John and Sarah realize that without cash, they might have a problem. They couldn't very well plunk down a wallet-sized piece of gold as payment. But John's face was set in a hard line. He was a man with a plan clearly. She is so proud of him and the way he takes charge.
The landlord behind the desk eyes them warily. Sarah knows they must have looked out of place. John in a Hawaiian shirt with nothing but a backpack; she, looking like a drowned rat.
John was now arguing with the dark haired man, telling him he knew it was last moment, but he and his girlfriend immediately needed a place to stay. They were looking for something long-term, discreet, and nothing fancy. He didn't have money right now, but he could get it. The landlord's face was turning red. But John just crossed his arms, looking at the older man imperiously. Sarah finds her face flushing, desire for her boyfriend surging within her as her heart swelled. He was her protector. He took care of her. And he looked hot while doing it.
Frustrated and out of options, John flashes the gold at the man. The landlord's eyes grow wide.
"Look man, I promise you, we're going to trade this in and I'll be able to pay you a couple months rent in advance. We just need some time and I would really appreciate it if you could help us out."
The gold convinces him. He hands John a set of bronze keys, explaining that the place wouldn't have much: just a small refrigerator and running water, but no air conditioning or dishwasher. Certainly nothing like Sarah was used to. But she knew what she was getting herself into. She'd known it since she and John had kissed in the rain. She belonged to him, and he to her.
And just like that, with a hasty "thank you," and promise of an IOU, John and Sarah left, heading out into the fading light.
They arrive at their small bungalow shortly after 7pm. As he looks at it, John realizes it kind of reminds him of the Chateau. Small, but made of sturdy wood, it had a porch with two wicker chairs. John imagines them sitting there, watching the sunset each night. He realizes he could get used to that, even with the danger they were in.
Walking up the rickety porch, John unlocked the door, letting Sarah walk through first. He watches her as she surveyed the room, her head turning this way and that, taking it all in. He felt nervous. He knew he couldn't give a girl like Sarah what she was used to. They were from different worlds. He was a street rat and she was a princess and those two never, ever mixed.
She turns to look at him then, with a breathtaking smile on her face.
"I love it John B."
He instantly relaxes. This girl, his girl, she was just so GOOD. So kind, so accommodating, so brave and strong. He doesn't know what he had done in his short life to deserve her, but he isn't going to question it.
Sarah heads towards the bedroom, already searching for sheets to put on what looks like a queen-sized bed. John is definitely not used to that. Most times he just crashes on his couch. He has forgotten what a soft bed with actual pillows feels like.
He unpacks his few, wet belongings. His spare set of clothes are soaking wet. The few papers and pictures he has are basically destroyed, ink running together, making them unreadable. But the most important possession, the gold, is as solid as ever. John looks around the room, searching for the perfect hiding place. His eyes fall on the bathroom door. He hurries forward, and with dexterous fingers, places the gold in the back of the toilet. No one will look there, even if they break into the bungalow. John is sure of it.
He hears Sarah sigh from the other room. Walking over to her, he sits next to her on the bed. She looks tired. Bags under her eyes and her hair is a tangled mess from the salt water they were stuck in only hours ago. But she's still beautiful. She makes his heart sing.
John takes her hands in his. He kisses each one, worshipping this girl, who has come to mean so much in such a short time. Only a few days ago he hadn't even known who she was, not really. And now . . . . she was Sarah Cameron. His Sarah Cameron.
"It's okay if you're tired Sarah. It's been a long day. You should get some sleep."
She looks at him, eyes wide with an emotion he can't quite place.
But then she voices it.
"I won't be able to sleep if you're not next to me."
His heart breaks and warms all at once. She trusts him. She needs him. She hasn't said she loves him yet, but he doesn't need the words to know how she feels. He gathers her in his arms, inhaling her scent. Even after the events of today, she still smells like flowers. Peonies maybe. John isn't positive; he's never been a big horticulturist.
He kisses the top of her head and pulls back only slightly to look at her face.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here."
Sarah nods her head slowly, grateful for his continued presence. She stands, and begins peeling off her damp and dirty clothes.
John's eyes go wide.
"Sarah, what are you doing?"
She places her hands on her hips and looks at him with exasperation.
"I'm not going to get the clean sheets gross because I'm covered in filth!" she replies, as if it's the most simple thing in the world.
John can't argue with her logic.
He pulls his shirt off, unwrapping the bandana from around his neck and places it on the small bedside table next to him.
He looks at her. She is still shy, slightly embarrassed to be naked in his presence. John figures that's normal. They only had sex the one time, and it hadn't been exceptionally bright in the church bell tower. But he had felt her body beneath him, and he knew it was soft and strong. But now wasn't the time for that. Right now, he knows they just need to be close to one another.
Sarah unclasps her bra and she is completely bare before him now. She walks to the right side of the bed and crawls into it, pulling the white sheets under her arms, just over her breasts. John thinks she looks like a goddess.
He peels his boxers off and swings his feet onto the bed, joining her underneath the covers. He feels the goosebumps on her skin, which is chilled. She shakes slightly from the cool ocean air that is coming in through the open windows. Pulling her close, John rests his chin on her head. He feels her bring her hand up to his chest and place it directly over his heart. He has never been this happy, or felt this complete.
They lay this way, intertwined body and soul, until they both fall into dreamless sleep.